'11 Sober Somber Slumber



Sober Somber Slumber


Late night journeys in achromatic crisis,
with every move so slow and spineless.

Take my hand, take me with you;
please withstand, I'm fighting hue

Oh, what a night, will you not go away.
"What a night, I'm here to help in anyway"

But there you were...adjusting as I had skid
and there you are... lifting away my eyelids

I heard a voice again which I had interrupted.
A bright and blurry figure appeared and I said,

"Touch me with your clairvoyant breath;
reanimate my unknelled soul again"

Cautious and drained, reset by demise
Conscious had gained, beset by eyes

©David Joel Rodriguez

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saiom's picture


Your minting of the word unknelled is delightful

"Touch me with your clairvoyant breath"
... a poet on this site, wemni, speaks of synesthesia...
when the soul can see colors, hear tastes, etc.

I look forward to reading all your poems